


I'm Actually Yours

by Finduilas



Series: Love, Most Definitely [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Assistant Stiles, Canada, First Kiss, Love Actually AU, M/M, Meet-Cute, Misunderstandings, Prime Minister Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-17 02:21:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13067112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Finduilas/pseuds/Finduilas
Summary: This is a Love Actually AU in several parts. I have taken the couples and storylines from the movie Love Actually and turned each one into a Sterek fic. Each part is separate and stands alone. I have only done three parts so far. I might add other parts in the future, if I find some writing mojo again. Each part is a finished fic in its own.Thank you to Ashley for the beta, to Juu for the encouragement, and to Mako for correcting the Polish!





	I'm Actually Yours

As Derek gets out of the car and is greeted by a large crowd of supporters, cheering and waving at him, he is reminded once again that the reason he went into politics is to make things better for the people, to make a difference. Not so much for the public aspect of it, the hand-shaking and the waving, the posing for pictures. Even though he’s been told a million times that he’s actually  _ good _ at it, that he makes a good impression, he still feels awkward. He much prefers the one-on-ones with people. 

But Derek does realize that it is part of the job, of course, now that he’s been elected Prime Minister. And somehow that hasn’t really sunk in yet. All he ever wanted to do was make Canada a better place, and now he actually… has a say in that. It feels somewhere unreal as he walks up the steps to 24 Sussex Drive, smiling and waving at the crowd. 

The door is being opened for him - another thing that Derek finds utterly weird. He never seems to have to open doors anymore - and as he walks in he is being greeted by Allison, his assistant. 

Derek lets out a deep breath as the door closes behind him, and Allison smiles. 

“That’s the hard part done,” she jokes, clearly seeing Derek’s nervousness. 

“Hah,” Derek says, composing himself. 

“Welcome, Prime Minister,” Allison greets him. 

“Thank you, Allison,” Derek says, finally relaxing a bit and greeting his long-time friend with a hug. “I gotta work on that wave,” he muses. 

“I’m sure you’ll get used to it,” Allison says, encouraging. “Would you like to meet your household staff?” 

Derek can see they’re already lined up in the hallway, so it’s really not a question, but he answers politely anyway, “Yes, that would be nice.” 

Allison leads the way towards the three people clearly waiting to meet him. 

“This is Alan,” Allison says, introducing the man in the impeccable suit, “He’s in charge.” 

“Good morning, Sir,” Alan says, as he reaches out his hand, and Derek shakes it politely. 

“Good morning,” Derek says, “So you’re the man I can count on, right?” 

“Absolutely, Sir,” Alan nods. 

“And this is Marin,” Allison says, moving on to the woman standing next to Alan. 

“Hello,” Derek says, shaking her hand as well. 

“Pleasure to meet you,” Marin says, smiling friendly, “I’m in charge of housekeeping, Sir.” 

“Ah,” Derek says, trying to come up with a bit of small talk. It’s a bit crazy but he really wants to make a good impression on these people. They’ll be in his house pretty much all the time, and Derek really doesn’t want to feel like he’s an intruder in his own residence. “I’ll try not to make too much of a mess. Should be easier than with the last ones, anyway. No kids, no wife.” 

“No worries about that, Sir,” Marin says with a smile. 

“And this is Stiles,” Allison goes on, introducing the young man at the end of the line, “He’s new, like you.” 

“Hello Stiles,” Derek says, shaking the man’s hand. 

“Hello Derek,” Stiles says, quite spontaneous, before the realization sets in on his face and he turns bright red. “I mean, Sir,” he adds hastily. “Shit, I can’t believe I just said that,” Stiles mutters, and instead of stopping, he just goes on babbling, “And now I’ve said ‘shit’. Twice.” He looks absolutely horrified, but Derek can’t help but laugh. “I’m so sorry, Sir.” 

“It’s fine,” Derek says, shaking his head. He can tell that Allison is giving Stiles a bit of a stink-eye, but really, Derek just thinks it’s pretty funny. “You could’ve said fuck and then we’d have been in real trouble.” He doesn’t even know why he says it, he just tries to make Stiles relax a little bit. 

“Thank you, Sir,” Stiles says, somewhat relieved that Derek didn’t just chew off his head, “I had a terrible feeling that I was gonna fuck up on my first day.” The words have barely left Stiles’ mouth or his eyes go wide at the realization, and for a second Derek wonders if he’s being punked or something. Stiles slaps his hands over his face in embarrassment and mutters another curse under his breath, and Derek isn’t quite sure what to say anymore. 

“Well then,” Allison says, saving them both, “I’ll go get my stuff and then let’s fix the country, alright?” 

“Yeah,” Derek says, giving Stiles another glance before following Allison down the hallway. “Good idea.” 

Allison leads the way, and after a few moments, Derek can’t help but look back at the staff. 

Stiles has his shoulders hunched, shaking his head as he pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly distraught by what has just happened. Marin has her arm around his shoulder and she’s whispering things to him that Derek can’t make out anymore. 

Allison leads him into his office, saying she’ll be right there, and Derek nods before closing the door behind him, finally finding a moment alone. 

He lets out a deep breath, resists the urge to lean against the door, and closes his eyes for a second. 

“Fuck,” he lets out breathlessly. 

 

***

 

“Okay,” Derek nods as he closes his folder, “What’s next?” 

“The President’s visit,” Lydia reminds him. 

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Derek says, and honestly, he’s been dreading this one. “This isn’t going to be easy.” 

“I agree,” Lydia, who is sitting next to him, says, “There’s a strong feeling in the party that we shouldn’t allow ourselves to be bullied, like the last government.” 

There are mutters of agreement rising up around the table. 

“This is our first really important test,” Bobby, from across the table, says, “We should take a stand.”

“Right,” Derek says, nodding. “And I agree. It’s just…” He considers his words. “We can’t be alienated right off the bat. We can’t forget that America is the most powerful country in the world.” Derek is torn by his words, but he doesn’t want to do anything stupid in the first weeks on the job. He has to be diplomatic, he doesn’t want to screw up. He doesn’t want to be the person that creates an international diplomatic incident the second he takes office. He knows that the President of the United States is pretty much an asshole, but he’s also unpredictable, and that’s what makes this so delicate. 

He can tell that the people around the table are disappointed, and really, he is in himself a little bit too. 

“We can’t be seen acting like a petulant child,” Derek continues, trying to explain his position. 

There are nods around the table, but Derek can tell they’re not really genuine agreement. It seems like nobody’s willing to argue with him on it though, because they all stay quiet. 

Derek clears his throat, then looks around the table. 

“What do you have to do around here to get a cup of coffee and a cookie or something?” Derek says, looking around. There’s a bit of laughter surrounding him, and  _ of course _ it’s at that time that Stiles walks in, pulling a cart of refreshments. 

He rolls the cart up to the table, and smiles politely as he looks up. His eyes meet Derek’s, and Derek can’t help but lose his train of thought for a second. 

“Right…” he mutters, his gaze still fixed on Stiles. 

 

***

 

Derek is working in his office when he hears a knock on the door. He doesn’t immediately look up, too engrossed in his documents as he calls out “Come in” absentmindedly. 

The door opens and Stiles appears, a tray in his hands. He smiles - as usual - as he steps closer to Derek’s desk. He puts down a folder on it, saying, “These have just come through from the Treasury.” 

“Thanks,” Derek mutters, sliding the folder closer. He wonders - not for the first time since moving in here - why he always becomes slightly flustered when Stiles enters the room. He can act normal around Marin, or Alan, or any of the other staff. But when Stiles is around, he never quite knows what to say. He’s the Prime Minister for God’s sake, he’s a good talker. And yet...

“And these are for you,” Stiles says, putting down a cup of coffee on Derek’s desk, and a plate with a couple of chocolate-covered cookies. 

“Thank you,” Derek says. 

Stiles looks like he’s about to walk away, but as he straightens himself up he says, “I was hoping you’d win.” 

Derek looks up at him, somewhat surprised at Stiles’ candor. 

“I mean,” Stiles goes on, “I would’ve been nice to the other one as well, of course. But like… I would’ve given him the boring cookies, without chocolate.” 

It feels like a ridiculously strange thing to say, but so nice, and yet once again Derek finds nothing to say except for, “Oh, uh… thank you...” 

He feels like an idiot, and Stiles just smiles again and walks towards the door. 

“... Stiles,” Derek says, as an afterthought, and Stiles closes the door. 

“Ugh,” Derek lets out, and he could really slap himself for being such an idiot. 

But then there’s another knock on the door, and Derek calls out, “Come in.” 

He’s surprised to see it’s Stiles again, and he can tell Stiles is feeling a bit awkward as well. 

“I’m sorry, can I just…?” Stiles asks, and he steps into the office and closes the door behind him. 

“Is something wrong?” Derek asks, a bit taken aback. 

“No, it’s just…” Stiles says, fiddling with the empty tray still in his hands. “I just really want to apologize for… you know.” 

“Oh,” Derek says, eloquent as ever. 

“I feel so stupid,” Stiles says, shaking his head, “I do that, you see? The whole word vomit thing before I even realize what I’m saying. I was just so nervous to meet you, and I want to do really well in this job.” Stiles seems to have launched himself into a monologue, talking rapidly. “And then I just went and said the stupidest things, and… oh God, I cursed and everything. My dad would have sunk through the ground if he’d seen me. He’s so proud I’ve gotten a job here and everything. I’m a fucking moron.” The words are barely out of his mouth or Stiles is slapping his hand across his face, realizing he’s done it again. 

“It’s fine, Stiles,” Derek says, a bit flabbergasted by the whole thing. “I…” 

“I’m sorry,” Stiles blurts out. 

“It’s fine!” Derek repeats, “I’m not completely scandalized by a few swear words or anything.” He smiles, trying to put Stiles at ease. “I don’t care, honestly.” 

“I’m so sorry,” Stiles says again, his cheeks flustered. 

“It’s okay,” Derek says, and then there’s a knock on the door and Allison steps in. 

Stiles doesn’t say anything else, just nods hello to Allison as he slips out of the door, throwing another apologetic look at Derek. 

 

***

 

Derek opens the door to let out one of his advisors only to find Stiles standing there, ready to knock. 

“Ah, Stiles,” Derek says, letting him in. 

“Sir,” Stiles says, walking in with a stack of papers in his hands that he puts down on Derek’s desk. 

He turns around and prepares to walk right out again, and Derek isn’t quite sure what is coming over him as he calls out, “Stiles!” 

Stiles stops in his tracks, turns around with a questioning look on his face, his ever-existing smile not fading. 

“We, uh…” Derek starts, not entirely knowing what he wants to ask, “We cross each other’s paths all the time here, and uh… Well, I mean, you obviously know a lot about who I am, it’s been plastered all over the news with the elections and everything.” 

Stiles nods at Derek. 

“But uhm, I really don’t know anything about you,” Derek goes on, ‘cause there is no turning back now, “And that’s really a bit elitist and… well, wrong. I feel like I should know a little bit about you too.” 

“Oh,” Stiles says, and his entire face lights up, which makes Derek feel a little less awkward about the whole thing, “There’s not a whole lot to know though.”

“Well…” Derek says, indicating to Stiles that he can sit down on the couch, “Where do you live, for example?” 

“Heatherington,” Stiles says as he sits down, “Near the shady part.” 

“Oh, yeah,” Derek says, recognizing the area, “My sister lives close to there.” He ponders for a second. “So what exactly is the shady part?” 

“Well, Heron, Walkley, that kind of area,” Stiles nods, and Derek can’t quite tell from the smirk on his face whether Stiles is being sincere or if he’s just messing with Derek. 

“And uhm, do you live there with someone? Girlfriend? Wife? A litter of kittens?” Derek asks, and as the words leave his mouth he knows exactly how it sounds. And Derek wishes he could say he meant it differently, but if he’s completely honest with himself, he knows that that is not the case. 

“No, uhm,” Stiles says, worrying his cheek between his teeth, “I’ve recently split up with my boyfriend, actually. So I’m back to living with my dad for a bit.” 

“Ah,” Derek says, and his surprise is clearly mistaken for something negative, because Stiles freezes up a bit. 

“I mean, I hope that’s not a problem?” Stiles says, his entire posture changing in a fraction of a second, “I didn’t think that kind of thing would be a problem here. I mean, I figured with what I know about you -” 

“No, oh my God, Stiles, no!” Derek says, getting up out of his seat in a desperate attempt to reassure Stiles. He knows that Stiles is referring to Derek being openly bisexual, and he feels horrible if he gave off the impression that Stiles’ sexuality could ever be a problem for him. “I just didn’t realize! I was surprised, that’s all. But oh my God, no, you know about me, you have to know that having had a boyfriend most definitely is not a problem here!” 

“Oh,” Stiles says, his shoulders sagging in relief. 

“I’m just… I’m sorry you split up,” Derek says. 

“That’s okay,” Stiles shrugs, “He was an asshole anyway. He said I wasn’t pretty enough for him.” 

“ _ What? _ ” Derek calls out, and he can’t hide the outrage in his voice. 

“ _ Yeah _ ,” Stiles says, drawn out, “He said I wasn’t ugly, per se, but that he really needed someone with more classic good looks, and that I could do with a bit more muscle and a sixpack as well. And that nobody likes a face sprinkled with moles anyway.”

Derek isn’t entirely sure what to say. He’s pretty much in shock, hearing all this. 

“Not a very nice guy in the end, it turns out,” Stiles says, pursing his lips together. He doesn’t look very upset, but it’s clearly something that must have struck a chord with him, and how could it not? It’s completely disgusting, what this guy had Stiles believing! 

“Yeah, no,” Derek says, a little bit in shock. 

Stiles gets up off the couch, shrugging once more as he smiles at Derek. 

“Oh well,” he says, making his way towards the door again. 

“You know…” Derek says, because he really doesn’t want Stiles to leave like this. Stiles turns around and looks at him. “Being Prime Minister, I could just have him assassinated.” 

In anything, if elicits a laugh from Stiles, so Derek counts it as a win. 

“Thank you, Sir,” Stiles says, nodding, “I’ll think about it.” 

“You do that,” Derek smiles back, “I have resources, I can make it look like an accident.” 

And Stiles is still laughing as he closes the door behind him. 

 

***

 

Derek doesn’t particularly like the President of the United States of America, but as a politician he doesn’t have much choice but to interact with world leaders, regardless of whether he likes them or not. The relationship between Canada and the US is important for his country, Derek realizes this, so he is committed to make this visit from the President a smooth one. It’s his first official big state visit, so Derek is adamant to make it good. He doesn’t feel like he has the huge politic pull yet to make a stand. 

So Derek welcomes the American President with open arms, greeting him in front of all the cameras and journalists like they’re supposed to. Big smiles and firm handshakes, that’s the way it goes. 

“Please, come on through,” Derek says after the doors close and Derek leads the President into his office. “I’m sorry your wife couldn’t make it,” he adds, out of politeness. 

“So is she,” the President answers with a smile, “Although, she would’ve been kind of lonely here, right?” 

“Right,” Derek confirms, maintaining his smile as he brushes off, “Yeah, well… I guess I’ve always found it difficult to combine relationships and politics.” 

“Really?” The President asks, looking ahead of him, “I’ve never had any trouble with that.” 

“I guess you’re smoother than I am then,” Derek says, not wanting to be rude to the President, but trying his best to end this particular conversation subject. “I’m very jealous of your plane, by the way,” Derek adds immediately, trying to cross over into another direction as they head over to Derek’s office.

“Ah, yeah, thank you,” the President says, proudly, as if he manufactured it himself, “Love that thing. Wouldn’t know what to do without it.”

They’re almost at his office when Stiles appears in the hallway, walking their way. 

“Stiles, hi,” Derek says, and suddenly he doesn’t have to try so hard to keep up his smile anymore. It comes naturally. 

Stiles smiles back and nods friendly, looking from Derek to the President, looking a tiny bit intimidated. 

“Morning,” the President says as Stiles crosses them, continuing his path, “And how are you today?” 

Stiles appears to mutter something, smiling friendly at the President as his cheeks turn slightly pink. 

“Excellent,” the President says, and there’s something about his grin that Derek doesn’t entirely like, and then Stiles disappears out of sight and the President lets out an almost quiet whistle. 

“Well,” he says, keeping up his sly grin, “That’s a pretty little mouth, isn’t it?” 

“Excuse me?” Derek asks, ‘cause he’s genuinely confused as to what is happening right now. Surely the President isn’t… 

“With a mouth like that, doesn’t even matter what’s down below, am I right?” the President concludes somewhat jokingly as he enters Derek’s office. He doesn’t really wait for a reply or anything, for Derek to agree with him or not, as he walks around the room and starts commenting something about how nice Derek’s office is. 

Derek has to swallow away the bad taste in his mouth before he enters as well and closes the door behind him. 

 

***

 

“Absolutely not,” one of the President’s right hand men says as they sit around the table, “We cannot and will not negotiate on that either.” 

Derek has to admit he is distracted as Lydia starts to answer, laying out the Canadian argument. He keeps thinking about the President’s comment from before. He always knew there was a reason he didn’t particularly like him. Too slick, too full of himself. But mostly Derek is annoyed at himself, because he didn’t say anything in Stiles’ defense. What kind of a man makes that of himself? 

“It shouldn’t be unexpected,” the President says to Lydia, that sly smile on his face again, shaking Derek out of his thoughts, “The last administration laid it out perfectly. We’re just being consistent with their policies.” 

The man never stops smiling, Derek realizes, and yet it never comes across as genuine. 

“With all due respect, Sir,” Lydia goes on, “They were bad policies.” 

“Alright, thank you, Lydia,” Derek says, taking over the conversation again, “I don’t think we’re making progress here. Let’s just, uh… table the subject and move on for now, okay?” 

 

***

 

“Well then,” Derek says as he goes to sit down on the couch opposite the President, ‘cause sadly it seems these formalities don’t end quickly when you have the President of the United States visiting. “That was an interesting day.” 

“I’m sorry if our line was firm,” the President says, even though he doesn’t seem sorry at all, “But there really is no point in tiptoeing around it today, and then disappointing you for four years. I mean, I have plans, and I plan to see them through.”

“Right, no, I understand,” Derek says, getting up off the couch, feeling increasingly worse the more time he spends with the President. “There’s just something I’d like you to take a look at. I’ll be right back, if you can just give me a second?” 

“I’ll give you anything you ask for,” the President says, as Derek is heading towards the door, smirking as he ads, “As long as it’s not something I don’t wanna give.” 

“Right,” Derek says, biting his tongue as he walks out into the hallway to see Stiles approaching with a plateau with what looks to be a bottle of Scotch and some glasses, his face lighting up as he sees Derek. 

“Hi,” Derek says, a little bit of relief washing over him as he crosses paths with Stiles, who smiles broadly before heading into the lounge where the President is still sitting. 

Derek finds the folders he needs on the desk, and turns straight back around, pushing open the door to find the President standing uncomfortably close to Stiles, who nearly jumps out of his skin as he sees Derek. He looks at him wide-eyed, distinctly awkward, while the President simply raises his glass with that same old slippery smile and says, “Great Scotch!” 

“I’ll uhm…” Stiles starts, picking up his plateau again, “I’ll be going then.” and he makes his way hastily towards the door. 

“Oh, Stiles?” the President says, waiting until Stiles turns to him again. “I hope to see much more of you as our two great countries work towards a better future.” 

Stiles glances over at Derek for a second, before answering a bit subdued “Thank you, Sir.”

Derek feels slightly sick by the way Stiles is so clearly uncomfortable, and he feels responsible for the whole situation. If he’s completely honest, he’d rather show the President the door. The disrespect he is showing for Derek’s personnel is disgusting, and that’s not even mentioning the way he doesn’t even come close to considering negotiating in the meetings. 

But Derek also know he can’t react on emotions, he has to stay professional, and diplomatic when it comes to dealing with such a world leader. 

Derek already knows it’s going to be a long evening.

 

***

 

There are camera flashes going off the second both he and the President step into the room for the press conference, and Derek feels inexplicably nervous. The President seems relaxed as always, and they both take their places behind their lecterns. 

Derek looks out over at the journalists and calls out one, who stands up to ask his question.

“Mister President?” the journalist asks, “Has it been a good visit?” 

“Very satisfactory indeed,” the President answers smoothly, “We got what we came for, and our special relationship is still very special.” 

“Prime Minister?” the same journalist asks, clearly expecting the same kind of answer from him.

“I love that word ‘relationships’,” Derek says, swallowing away his hesitation and fear. He knows that he has to take a stand or forever be disparaged by the United States, “It can mean pretty much anything, doesn’t it?” 

He can feel that the journalists in the room are starting to pay just a little bit more attention, and he can see Allison standing near the wall, straightening up. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Stiles standing there as well, near the back. 

“I’m afraid that this relation isn’t as good as the President makes it out to be,” Derek speaks frankly, and more camera flashes go off, “It’s become a relationship based on the President taking exactly what he wants and casually ignoring all those things that really matter to, uh… Canada.” 

He can feel all eyes on him, but it’s Stiles’ that he feels the most. 

“We might not be the world leader that the United States is,” Derek goes on, deliberately not looking over at the President next to him, “But we’re a great country too. A country of great lakes and clean air, of discoveries such as insulin! Peanut butter!” It provokes a laugh from the crowd in front of him, like he had hoped. It’s only the President that is starting to scowl next to him. But Derek looks straight ahead and goes on, “Of Alexander Graham Bell, and Leonard Cohen.” He says proudly. Then adds, with a grin, “And Ryan Gosling.” Which, of course, gets an even bigger laugh from everyone. But Derek goes on, because he has a point to make. “And a friend who bullies us, is no longer a friend.” 

He can almost hear gasps coming up from the journalists, because surely they didn’t expect their Prime Minister to go this far. 

“And since bullies only respond to strength,” Derek continues, firmly, “From now onward, I will be prepared to be much stronger.” Derek turns towards the President, looking at his clearly displeased face as he addresses the press again and says, “And the President should be prepared for that.” 

The cameras are flashing rapidly, and multiple journalists stand up, shouting out questions. The room is abuzz and Derek can’t help but feel a little bit proud of his actions. He can definitely tell from Allison’s face that she is. And Stiles looks impressed as well. 

The President however… well, it’s the first time Derek has seen his famous smile falter, and he looks a little bit stunned for words. 

It isn’t long after the press conference that everyone in the entire residence seems to want to shake his hand and congratulate him as he feels his cell phone buzz in his jacket. Seeing the caller ID for his sister pop up on the screen, Derek swipes his finger over his screen and answers, uncharacteristically cocky, “I’m very busy and important, how can I help you?” 

“Have you gone completely insane?” Cora all but screams out over the phone, the excitement in her voice clearly audible. 

“Well, can’t be sensible all the time,” Derek shrugs, jokingly. 

“Isn’t that kind of part of the job description when you’re Prime Minister though?” Cora laughs. 

Allison is already gesturing towards him that there’s someone he desperately needs to speak to, so he knows he has to cut his call with Cora short. He’s on a roll with the jokes now, so he says, “Oh look, I have Her Majesty the Queen on the other line.” 

“No you don’t!” Cora calls out, and Derek can practically hear her bounce on the other end of the line. 

“I’ll call you back,” Derek says, hastily. 

“No you won’t!” Cora calls out again, joyful, and Derek hangs up the phone. 

 

***

 

It’s one of those slow days - not surprisingly a Sunday - and Derek is grateful for the break. Especially since this week has been kind of hectic, what with the President of the United States coming to visit, and well… Derek doing what he did. The media is still talking about it, and Derek is relieved to see that the country seems to be pleased with what their Prime Minister did. Words like patriotism and “Our PM taking a stand” are headlining these days, and Derek can’t help but feel a little bit proud of himself. He’s also very relieved the President has returned to his White House.

So Derek is definitely in a good mood as he’s wandering down the house a bit. It’s way too big for just him alone, he knows that, but it’s tradition that the Prime Minister live in 24 Sussex, so he just adapted. Besides, it’s not like the house is empty either, with all the staff. But then again, the fact that he has this much personnel working for him is not something he’s used to either. 

But it’s all temporary after all, and if he can do some good for the country while he’s Prime Minister… that’s all Derek can hope for. That’s all he ever wanted. 

So Derek keeps walking around the house, thinking he can probably still discover new rooms when he realizes that he’s humming along to music that is playing down the hallway he’s turning in. He recognizes the song,  _ “Jump” _ from The Pointer Sisters, which becomes louder as he steps further down the hallway. The door to one of the rooms on the right is open, the music distinctly coming from that room, and Derek can’t help himself but peek inside.

The song is so loud that Stiles probably didn’t hear him coming. Stiles, who is standing in the middle of the room, his back towards the door, dancing and prancing along to “ _ Jump _ ”. He’s singing along as well, Derek can tell now, and he can’t help but step a little more into the doorway to get a better look at the show. And a show it is. Stiles definitely has moves, even if he’s doing an exaggerated, silly dance. His hips sway seductively to the rhythm as he belts along. And Derek has to admit that it’s quite an interesting sight. He doesn’t know what it is about Stiles, but he’d be a liar if he didn’t admit by now that he’s intrigued by him. Probably even more. Which is not something that happens a lot to Derek. 

And he knows he should probably stop being such a creeper and just walk away and leave Stiles to his little amusement. It is Sunday after all, and he really shouldn’t be sneaking up on Stiles’ free time. But then Stiles is cocking his hip, one hand resting on it, the other outstretched and pointing as he slowly swivels around, bobbing his head to the rhythm of the music. 

Stiles’ singing along cuts off into a tiny shriek when he finally spots Derek in the doorway as his arms flail around. Derek feels like a deer caught in headlights, but really, Stiles seems to feel the same way as his entire face turns red and he calls out, “Derek!” He turns even redder, if that’s possible, as he quickly corrects himself and stammers, “Uh, Sir. Mister Prime Minister Sir. I’m sorry.”

“No, no,” Derek calls out, quickly, waving his hands in front of him. “I should apologize, I shouldn’t have…” 

“I was just…” Stiles babbles on, pointing his phone on the dresser, still playing the music. 

“No, that’s fine,” Derek rushes out, “I just heard the music and…” he wavers a bit. He isn’t quite sure what to say. _ ‘I was watching you dance?’  _ Yeah, that doesn’t sound like he’s a big pervert at all. 

“I should have put the volume down,” Stiles says, walking over to his phone and doing just that. 

“No, Stiles, please, it’s fine,” Derek tries again, “I shouldn’t have snuck up on you.” 

“Oh God,” Stiles says, covering his face with his hands, embarrassed, “I made a fool out of myself again, didn’t I?” 

“No!” Derek calls out, and Stiles peers out between his fingers. Derek adds, softer, “Not at all. In fact… you’re quite the dancer.” 

That elicits a smile from Stiles - which in turn gets one from Derek - and his embarrassed blush turns into something… a little bit different. 

“I’m a sucker for the classics,” Stiles says, shrugging, a little bit timidly. 

“Can’t blame you,” Derek says. He opens his mouth to say something else, but then Stiles’ phone goes off and it kind of startles them both. 

“It’s my dad,” Stiles says, looking at the caller ID. 

“I’ll leave you to it,” Derek says, a little bit regretful, because he wouldn’t mind talking to Stiles a little bit more, even though he knows it’s probably a very bad idea. 

“I can just let it ring,” Stiles says, hastily, but at the same time he’s glancing over at the screen like he really doesn’t like to ignore a call from his father. 

“No, no, don’t,” Derek says, making sure he has a smile on his face. He’s already retreating into the doorway. “It’s your day off!” 

Stiles nods, a little self-conscious, and presses the screen on his phone as Derek waves goodbye. 

“Hi Dad,” Stiles answers into the phone, his other hand waving back hesitantly as Derek disappears down the hallway. 

 

***

 

Derek is leaning against his windowsill, changing his mind five times per second. Nothing about this feels good, and he feels like an absolute asshole, and yet he’s seriously thinking of doing it. 

He has to protect himself. Protect Stiles even. It just wouldn’t be right, Stiles is his employee. Nothing but awkwardness and potentially even serious trouble can come of this. What if Stiles finds out, the way Derek is feeling? What if he feels harassed by Derek, what if he feels like this isn’t a safe working environment for him anymore? That is definitely not something Derek would ever want!

So yeah, this is the best decision for the both of them. Derek is sure of it. He is… 

Which is why he asked Allison into his office. 

“Allison…” Derek sighs, a heavy weight in the pit of his stomach, “I need you to do me a favor.” 

“Anything for the man of the hour,” Allison smiles, clearly referring to his firm action against the President. 

“Please don’t ask me why, and don’t… uh, read anything into this,” Derek starts, “It’s just a weird personal thing, but uhm… You know Stiles, who works here?” 

“The one with no filter?” Allison asks. 

“Uh, yeah, well, I mean,” Derek starts, “That was just a mistake, I’m sure.” 

“Of course, Sir,” Allison smiles. 

“Anyway…” Derek says, recollecting his thoughts. “I was wondering if you could… give him another post somewhere?” 

Allison seems taken aback for a second, but as Derek is used to from her, she regains her composure again fast enough and nods determined. “Consider it done,” she says, and Derek feels both relieved and disappointed at the same time. 

 

***

 

Derek knows that he never has to ask Allison anything twice, and so the next day it is Marin that comes to bring Derek some coffee and cookies in the afternoon as he’s working behind his desk. 

He doesn’t know which post Stiles got assigned to, and he doesn’t ask. It’s for the best, he tells himself as Marin leaves his office with a smile and Derek grabs one of the cookies… the boring ones, without the chocolate. 

 

***

 

There’s a stack of Christmas cards that Alan has prepared for him in a big box. Not all of them, of course, but a selection that God-knows-who has made from him to riffle through if he wants to. 

It’s all formalities, of course. Allison handled his own Christmas cards a while ago, had him sign a stackful by hand, but most are a printed version of his signature. Who knew the Prime Minister had to send out so many cards? 

Derek looks through the box absentmindedly. The first ones really aren’t personal, generic wish that some high-ranked people have sent out to about a billion other high-ranked people. So Derek skims over them, not taking in a whole lot of it. Until he reaches one that’s completely hand-written, and most definitely personal… 

_ “Dear Prime Minister,  _

_ Dear Derek,  _

_ Merry Christmas, and I hope you have a very happy New Year. _

_ I’m very sorry about the thing that happened. It was a very weird moment and I feel like a complete idiot.”  _

Derek assumes he’s talking about the thing that happened with the President of the United States. He swallows and reads along. 

_ “Especially because (and if you can’t say it at Christmas, when can you?) I’m actually yours.  _

_ With love,  _

_ Your Stiles” _

A shivering breath escapes from Derek’s lungs as his eyes roam over the card again. He puts the card down on the coffee table in a hurry, like it’s something he wasn’t supposed to see, something too private, and he sits frozen on the couch for a few moments. His mind is a blur, there are all kinds of thoughts racing through it, but none of them are clear. It’s like they’re passing him by. And then he picks up the card again, and reads those last words. 

_ “Your Stiles.” _

It’s sappy and over the top, but Derek doesn’t even care. Because Stiles wrote it, and Stiles means it… Stiles feels the same way about Derek as Derek feels about Stiles, and… 

Derek rushes off the couch, and yells out, “Alan!”

He doesn’t even know where Alan is right this second, or if he can hear Derek, so Derek all but runs out into the hallway and yells again, “ _ Alan! _ ” 

“Sir?” Alan comes rushing around a corner, looking worried.

“Call Isaac. I need a car,” Derek says, out of breath. “I need to go to Heatherington Road, the shady part.” 

Alan looks a bit bewildered, surely because he’s never seen Derek this way, but he nods and says, “Right away, Sir.” 

 

***

 

Derek isn’t quite sure what on earth he is doing as he gets driven the twenty minutes over to Heatherington Road, but he is sure he needs to see Stiles. Boyd, his bodyguard sits quietly in the front. It doesn’t even occur to him, however, that he has no idea where exactly in Heatherington Road Stiles lives until his driver Isaac asks him what number. All he knows is that Stiles has moved back in with his father, temporarily. 

“I… have no idea,” Derek tells Isaac, so he gets out of the car - quickly followed by Boyd -  and takes in the street. 

He’s not really one to scream out Stiles’ name in the middle of the road, so he does the only thing he can think of, and starts ringing doorbells.

An elderly lady opens the first door, and Derek feels like a bit of an idiot when he asks, “Hi, does Stiles live here?” 

“No,” the lady says, a little bit confused, then frowns even more when she seems to recognize Derek.

“Okay,” Derek says, “Thank you anyway.” And he moves to leave. 

“Aren’t you the Prime Minister?” the lady asks. 

“Uh, yeah,” Derek says, then adds determined, “Merry Christmas.”

“Oh,” the lady says, full of wonder, “That’s quite the service.” 

“Right,” Derek nods, smiling at her before he moves on to the next door, Boyd and Isaac in tow. 

Three little girls open, dressed up in tiaras and feather boas. 

“Hi,” Derek says, “Does Stiles live here?” 

“No, he doesn’t,” one of the girls, missing her front tooth, says, “Are you carol singers?” 

“No, we’re not,” Derek says friendly, but the girls starts pleading with him. 

Derek looks behind him, at Boyd, who’s clearly trying to hide a snigger. 

“Alright then,” Derek says, clearing his throat. Not for the first time tonight he feels like an idiot, but he starts singing anyway, “ _ On the first day of Christmas my true love sent to me… _ ” 

To his surprise, both Boyd and Isaac chime in, and they have magnificent voices, “ _ A partridge in a pear tree… _ ” 

A couple of doors - and many humiliations later - a beautiful blonde woman opens the door, who after her initial surprise at finding the Prime Minister at her doorstep only seems to have eyes for Boyd. 

“Sorry to bother you,” Derek says, “But does Stiles live here?” 

“No,” she says, then smiles at Boyd.

“Ah,” Derek says, and he’s about to give up hope when the young woman adds, “He lives next door.” 

There’s a surge of relief washing over Derek as he takes in the words. 

“Is he in some kind of trouble, that the Prime Minister himself is coming to get him?” the woman says, amused, “‘cause with Stiles, you never know.” 

“Not at all,” Derek says, but it makes him kinda curious, “Does he get in a lot of trouble then?” 

“Nah,” the woman shakes her head, smiling, “I was just kidding. Stiles is a bit impulsive sometimes, maybe, but really, he’s the best.” 

“Yeah…” Derek draws out, looking at the house next door, “He is.” 

He thanks the lady for her help, nudges to Boyd that he can have a little chat or ask for her number if he wants to as Derek walks over to the next door. 

“Stilinski,” it says on the doorbell, and Derek rings it. 

The door opens to a bunch of people who are clearly just about to step out, and they all stop chatting as they notice Derek. 

“Uhm…” Derek takes in the crowd - he assumes Stiles’ family - and asks, “Is Stiles here?” 

A man, who could easily be Stiles’ father, stares at Derek for a second before he turns around and yells up the stairs, “ _ Sti-iles! _ ” 

“I’m here, I’m almost ready,” Stiles’ voice calls out, hurriedly, “I’m just trying to find my damn jacket!” 

“Language!” the same man yells back, which kind of confirms it for Derek that this must be Stiles’ dad. There’s a woman standing next to him with curly dark hair who shakes her head amused. 

But then Stiles comes running down the stairs, almost missing a step at the top, and comes to a startled halt when he sees Derek in the doorway. 

“Derek,” Stiles says, and Derek thinks this is the first time Stiles has called him that without apologizing and calling him ‘Sir’ afterwards. That’s how surprised he seems to be. 

“Hi,” Derek says, his face lighting up at the sight of Stiles. 

“Uhm…” Stiles says, completely taken aback. “This is my dad,” he starts introducing, “And my friends Scott and Kira. Scott’s mom Melissa. Jackson. And uh, Scott and Kira’s kids over there.” 

Derek isn’t quite sure who is who, but he nods hello anyway. 

“And uh…” Stiles says, “This is Prime Minister Hale.” 

“Yeah, we can see that, buddy,” one of the younger guys tells Stiles. 

“Thanks, Scott,” Stiles shoots the guy a look, then addresses Derek again, in a regretful tone. “And we’re going to be horribly late.” 

Clearly the whole gang was getting ready to go somewhere when Derek rung the doorbell. 

“It’s the Christmas concert!” One of the kids chimes in, excitedly. And how Derek didn’t notice before that the boy was dressed as an octopus, he will never understand. 

“All the local schools have joined together,” Stiles’ father explains, “But uhm… how can we help you, Sir?” 

“Well…” Derek says, looking from his father at Stiles, who can’t seem to take his eyes off him, “I needed Stiles… on some state business.” 

“I thought you were basically a maid?” The other guy - not Scott - says at Stiles, and he immediately gets an elbow in the ribs for it from Scott. He pipes down when he sees the stink-eye that’s accompanied with it. 

“Asshole,” Stiles mutters at the guy. 

“ _ Language! _ ” Both Scott and Stiles’ father call out at the same time, as an Asian girl covers her little girl’s ears. 

“Well, we really have to go,” Stiles’ father says, looking at his watch, “But perhaps you should come on a little later then, Stiles?” 

“I don’t want to make you late for the concert,” Derek says, feeling a little guilty for barging in like this. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Stiles shakes his head. 

“But _Uncle_ _Sti-les_ ,” the boy in the octopus costume whines. “You promised!”

“How about I give you a lift?” Derek asks, suddenly very grateful that his own car is always accompanied by police cars whenever he goes out, “And then we can talk about this state business in the car?” 

“That’d be great,” Stiles nods, and the rest of the family and friends seem to agree. 

Somehow, while everybody else is divided over the police cars, Derek and Stiles end up sitting in Derek’s car with the octopus boy in between them. The costume is impressive, Derek has to admit, but it’s not entirely what he had in mind when he proposed the lift. 

“It’s not that far,” Stiles tells Derek, over the octopus’ head. 

“Okay,” Derek nods, suddenly not quite sure what to say. Though he guesses anywhere is a good place to start. “I just wanted to say thank you for the Christmas card.” 

Stiles’ face turns up in a soft smile. “You’re welcome.” Then he takes a deep breath and goes on, “Listen, I’m so sorry about that day. I mean, I came in and he creeped towards me and I didn’t know what to do. I mean, he’s the President of the United States, and I’m… well, a glorified maid, according to Jackson. But I certainly didn’t make any advances on him or anything, God no, but I just felt like such a complete idiot because... “ Stiles takes a deep breath from his word-waterfall before adding, “I think about you all the time, actually. And I think you’re the man that…” 

“We’re here!” Octopus - Derek really needs to learn this kid’s name at some point - shouts out and interrupts Stiles’ speech, who deflates and leans back into his seat. 

“Well, that really  _ wasn’t _ far,” Derek says, as the octopus climbs over him to get out of the car. He gets a couple of tentacles into his face before the kid is actually out of the car, and Boyd closes the door again behind him, leaving Stiles and Derek alone in the backseat. 

“I guess,” Derek says, looking out the window before looking back at Stiles, “I probably shouldn’t come in. I mean, the last thing anyone wants is some politician stealing the kids’ thunder.” 

The disappointment is clear on Stiles’ face, and Derek could kick himself for it. Why does he keep messing this up?

“Please come?” Stiles asks, a little more subdued than Derek is used to, “It’ll be great. I mean, a Christmas manger with octopuses and lobsters and everything? It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity, I promise.” 

“I can imagine that,” Derek smiles, but he really doesn’t want to turn this into a public spectacle. 

It’s almost as if Stiles can read his mind when he says, “I know how we can sneak in through the back. We could watch from backstage.” 

Spending more time with Stiles is definitely tempting to Derek.

“Are you sure?” he asks. 

“Dude, I used to go to school here,” Stiles smirks, and Derek literally can’t remember the last time anyone has called him dude. It suddenly makes him feel… normal. “I know my way around this place. Trust me.” 

Derek smiles, and before he knows it he’s nodding. “Okay. Show me the way.” 

“Yes!” Stiles calls out excitedly, opening the car door. 

“Boyd, no need to come,” Derek tells his bodyguard, sitting in the front and certainly listening in to everything they’ve just said. 

“Sir?” Boyd frowns, because Derek knows he is supposed to accompany him when he goes out. 

“It’s fine,” Derek assures him, getting out of the car, “I won’t be long.” 

 

***

 

“So that’s your family, huh?” Derek asks, as they’re making their way through some abandoned hallways. 

“Yeah,” Stiles says, grabbing Derek’s hand to lead him the way, “It’s really just me and my dad as far as… you know, blood goes.” 

“Oh,” Derek says. 

“My mom died when I was little,” Stiles goes on, shrugging a little bit. “But Scott and Kira and everyone… we’ve been friends since we went to this place. And Melissa, she’s always been there for me and my dad. They’re family, for sure.” 

“That’s nice,” Derek says, warmed by the fact that Stiles is so well surrounded. 

There is something that he definitely needs to get off his chest though, so he squeezes Stiles’ hand as he comes to a halt next to some lockers. 

“Can we…?” Derek asks, not letting go of Stiles’ hand. 

“Are you okay?” Stiles asks, a little worried. 

“Yeah, I just…” Derek says, taking a deep breath. “I need to apologize to you.” 

“Oh,” Stiles says. 

“Listen, I obviously made a couple of wrong judgements,” Derek starts, “When I knew that I was falling for you, I just… I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to protect myself, but also you. I didn’t want to put you in some kind of awkward situation like… well, like the President did, and - ”

“Oh, Derek, that would never - ,” Stiles interrupts him, shaking his head. 

“It was selfish of me,” Derek goes on, before he loses his nerve, “Because mostly I wanted to make it easier on myself, and I thought that if I wasn’t around you anymore, I would forget about you, I’d get over you.” He sorts of snorts to himself. “That really didn’t work though.” 

“Yeah, I had some trouble doing that as well,” Stiles smiles. 

“But having Allison relocate you…” Derek shakes his head, “It was wrong. I was basically punishing you for something that wasn’t your fault at all! And I’m truly sorry about that. I got so caught up in my own feelings. I should have… I don’t know, talked to you. Or gotten control of myself. Either way… just banishing you out of my life without a single word was definitely not the way to go about it.” 

“Yeah, well…” Stiles shrugs, with a smirk, “We all fuck up sometimes.” 

Derek lets out a shaky laugh. He can’t help but think back at their first meeting when Stiles says that. 

“I’m sorry though,” Derek says, sincerely. 

Stiles nods, looking Derek in the eye. “I think I’ll probably be able to forgive you,” Stiles says, his mouth curling up into a smile. 

“Yeah?” Derek asks, hopeful as he sees Stiles’ eyes flicker from his own to his mouth. 

“Yeah,” Stiles says, scraping his teeth over his bottom lip. They’re standing so close, and Derek can feel the anticipation in the air, until…

There’s a stumbling a little further down the hall, somewhere around the corner. A couple of kids, it appears, laughing and running, coming closer to Derek and Stiles. The trance is broken, and Stiles grabs Derek’s hand again as he pulls him away. 

“Come on,” Stiles whispers, as they both start to run. 

Derek follows Stiles through a maze of hallways, through some classrooms, until there’s music becoming louder and louder and Derek understands that they’re getting closer to the performance of the children, that has clearly already started. 

“Through here,” Stiles whispers, squeezing Derek’s hand as he leads him backstage, through some curtains and decor pieces. They almost get caught again, so Stiles drags them even further, and Derek is not quite sure where they’ve ended up, behind some curtains and in between more set pieces. They must be very close to the stage though, because the music rings through very clearly. Someone’s singing “ _ All I want for Christmas is you _ ” and presumably there are kids performing a dance as well. The audience claps along, and when Derek looks back at Stiles, he can see that he’s holding back a giggle. 

“What?” Derek whispers, amused at Stiles’ relaxed demeanor. 

“This isn’t the first time I hid behind the school stage with a boy I wanted to kiss,” Stiles whispers back. It’s pretty dark where they are, but Derek can still see Stiles’ eyes sparkling. 

“So you wanna kiss me, huh?” Derek asks, the anticipation surging through his body again. 

Stiles shrugs casually, but his smirk betrays him, as does the fact that he’s inching closer to Derek, his hands finding a way to Derek’s sides. So Derek does what he’s been dreaming of doing since so long. He leans in to gently press his lips against Stiles’ smirk, and Stiles all but falls into him. Derek’s arms find their way around Stiles’ shoulders, their lips finding each other in the most perfect of kisses. It’s mesmerizing and bewitching, and Derek doesn’t even notice at first that the music around them has stopped and the audience is applauding and… 

The curtain in front of them opens, revealing spotlights and sparkling letters behind them, spelling out “Merry Christmas!” 

The kiss breaks and Stiles’ eyes are wide open, “deer-in-the-headlights”, as the crowd gasps and Ooh’s and Aah’s and as they recognize Derek. 

“Right…” Derek whispers, holding one arm around Stiles as he slowly turns towards the audience that has all eyes on them. “So not exactly as secret as we’d hoped.” 

Stiles’ cocks his head and lets out a puff of air in agreement. “What do we do?” He whispers at Derek. 

This is definitely not how Derek thought it would go, but there’s nothing to prevent that now, so they should really just make the best of it. 

“Smile,” Derek whispers, plastering a big smile on his face, and Stiles does the same. 

The crowd starts applauding again, cheers go up, loudly, excitedly. 

“Little bow,” Derek goes on, taking Stiles’ hand as they’re bowing a little bit. 

More cheers and whoops arising from the audience. 

“And uh…” Derek says, putting his hand up already, “... a wave.” 

Stiles waves enthusiastically, and while this is kind of Derek’s worst nightmare, to have his first kiss with someone on a stage in front of an entire auditorium full of people, he’s simultaneously relieved that there are no boos or cries of outrage from the audience, and also that this whole ordeal doesn’t seem to have scared off Stiles as they both exit the stage with bright smiles and waves. 

“Oh my God!” Stiles cries out as they disappear backstage, the audience still cheering them on. 

“Okay, so that’s uhm…” Derek starts, but he really has no idea what to say. 

“Totally insane?” Stiles asks, laughing aloud. 

“Pretty much, yeah,” Derek says, wiping his hand over his face. 

“So is this a normal day for you then?” Stiles asks, amused, his hand still firmly clasped in Derek’s. 

“Not exactly, no,” Derek shakes his head. 

“Well…” Stiles says, pondering. “I guess we won’t have to worry about how and when to tell the press about us then?” 

“I guess not,” Derek says, his heart still pounding and he’s not sure if it’s from the getting caught part or the kiss itself. 

“Are you totally freaking out?” Stiles asks, sounding genuinely concerned about Derek. 

“Only if you are,” Derek says, immediately. Because he’s gotten used to being in the spotlight and having things not always go the way he planned it, but this must be completely new and overwhelming to Stiles. 

“We’re good then,” Stiles says with a smile, before he pulls Derek towards him again, capturing him in another kiss. 

 

***

 

“Are you sure there is enough?” Derek asks as he watches John - Stiles’ father - and Scott fit three more chairs around the table. 

Somehow he’s not the only one that’s been strong armed into joining the Stilinski Extended Family into staying for Christmas Dinner, but so have Isaac and Boyd. 

“Of course!” Melissa calls out cheerful, “We always make enough for an entire army.” 

“‘Cause Scott wants roasted potatoes, but dad wants mashed,” Stiles explains. 

“And Stiles likes roasted vegetables,” Scott goes on, “But Kira likes a salad.”

“And we can never agree on dessert either,” Kira says, bringing out some fresh plates for Derek, Isaac, and Boyd. 

“So we just make everything,” Stiles shrugs, smiling. “Don’t worry, there’ll be enough. We could even invite some more people if we wanted to.” 

“Like your nice neighbor for example?” Boyd says, trying to sound inconspicuous but failing miserably. 

“Count the places, buddy,” Scott says with a smile, “She’ll be here any second now.” 

Boyd’s face lights up, and Derek can see him get a pat on the shoulder from both Isaac and Scott as he follows Stiles into the kitchen. 

“Can I at least help with something?” Derek asks, looking around the kitchen. 

“You don’t know Melissa yet,” Stiles says, amused, “Everything’s handled. Just needs taking out of the oven at the right time.” 

“Your family’s being really nice to me,” Derek says, leaning against the kitchen counter, a warm feeling in his chest. “I feel like I should be doing something to thank them. I kind of completely crashed their dinner, and the school performance.” 

“Meh,” Stiles says, shrugging as he ads, “Just lower their taxes or something.” 

“Hah!” Derek barks out a laugh. “Yeah, I’ll get right on that.” 

“Good,” Stiles smiles, leaning into Derek and planting another kiss on his lips. 

 

***

 

The End 


End file.
